


A Pragmatic Man

by brilligspoons



Category: Parasol Protectorate - Gail Carriger
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-14
Updated: 2011-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-23 18:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilligspoons/pseuds/brilligspoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commentfic - in which Professor Lyall was obviously in desperate need of a hug. (Slight spoilers for Heartless.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pragmatic Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weesaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weesaw/gifts).



Randolph Lyall is not a man predisposed to fits of melancholy or ill-humor. He has never been one to brood, or walk about in blinding rages, and likewise is not the sort to make idle chitchat and twitter about the social circles. No, Randolph Lyall is an _even_ sort of gentleman, pragmatic and punctual and able above all else; he always _has_ been, and he hopes the day never comes when he _won't_ be.

There was, of course, the one exception in his centuries-long record - the brief, shining, _wonderfulperfectbeautiful_ period of time labeled ever so neatly in his mind under the title "Alessandro." But rather than spend precious moments (or hours, or days) dwelling on Alessandro Tarabotti, Lyall develops the habit of drinking tea whenever the odd memory happens to well up inside him.

Randolph Lyall drinks a _lot_ of tea.

Needless to say, Lyall is not altogether prepared for Lord and Lady Maccon's daughter and the tantrums that increase in both noise and violence as she grows older.

He's been left with Prudence for the hours just before sunrise so that Alexia and Connall can enjoy a short respite from her demands and pouts before wrestling her back into her crib.

Lyall dodges a thrown wooden block and sighs. _I am far, far too old to be playing nursemaid to a child,_ he thinks glumly. Almost immediately, Alessandro's voice echoes through his mind, saying, _Really? And what is it you've been doing for his esteemed lordship all this time, then?_ A sharp pang of grief punches through his heart at this, and the moment is so intensely jarring that he barely notices Prudence quieting down and waddling over to him. A tug on his waistcoat draws his attention to where she's now standing and looking up at him.

He smiles at her. "You have your grandfather's eyes, you know," Lyall says.

Prudence tugs once more and then holds her arms up until he plucks her from the ground. Lyall expects to be directed to the kitchen for sweets (which she is _not_ allowed at this hour of the morning), but Prudence instead wraps her little arms around his neck and buries her face in his collar bone. A different kind of pang shoots through him, and after a moment's surprise, Lyall closes his eyes and tightens his hold on her and breathes.


End file.
